


Christmas Tree

by orphan_account



Series: 25 Days of Fic 2012 [5]
Category: His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
Genre: 25 Days of Fic, F/M, Spoilers for The Amber Spyglass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-05
Updated: 2012-12-05
Packaged: 2017-11-20 09:56:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/584109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's midwinter, and their Midsummer bench looks rather forlorn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Tree

Every Midsummer since she arrived back in Oxford, Lyra has visited Will’s bench. It is a quiet affair, and Lyra shares a quiet lunch with Pantalaimon there. Sometimes, they talk of memories of Will, and other times, they do not speak at all. It not close at all to what she wants, but it is enough, and she will take what she can get. She know he visits this place too, in his own universe. 

It is winter now, and Lyra finds these times the hardest, these days. The dark is at its peak near the winter solstice, and she is furthest from both the last time she and Will visited in spirit, and the time she would next take her quiet lunch on Midsummer. There comes a day when she puts down her work, and wanders outside through the snow, not having a particular destination in mind. She arrives at their bench without thinking, and it is covered in snow now, looking rather lonely on this winter afternoon. 

“I think I know what this needs, Pan,” Lyra murmured to her daemon, and her daemon nodded, having shared her same thought. She let her gaze linger on the bench a moment longer, and then set off to find a small pine tree.

—

Christmas is always a rush in Oxford, but Will is glad he can share it with others this year. He has always shared Christmas with his mother, but it is a quiet, sad sort of affair, since they had to keep quiet and out of the way. These past few years, however, Mary Malone, and his newfound daemon, Kirjava, have joined the company of Will and his mother. It is far more than he ever expected to have, and while he is thankful for it, the fact that Lyra is missing is always painfully obvious every year. 

The summer visits are what hold him over, but it is especially difficult during winter, when all the gold is gone, and there is only silver. When he sees the gold of sunlight, he thinks of Lyra, and her red-gold daemon, but now the sky is covered in clouds, and white snow blankets the greyness of the city. 

“Mary, I’m going to take a walk.” Will puts down his book, and Mary nods.

“I’ll hold down the fort.” Mary smiles at him. “Have a nice walk.” Will gives her a smile in return and exits, Kirjava padding softly behind him. The two of them walk out into the snowy streets, and Will picks up Kirjava so she doesn’t have to walk in the snow. Wandering, they make their way to Lyra’s bench, and it is covered in snow. Will imagines it looks the same in Oxford, and he wonders if Lyra ever passes by this place in winter. It looks rather bare, which is a shame. He sees Kirjava studying it, and thinks about what he could do to make it look nicer.

“It could use some gold, I think,” Kirjava says quietly. Will nods.

“And some green.”

— 

Lyra returns to the bench, hauling a rather haphazard Christmas tree behind her, a bag of decorations on her arm. It is not perfect, but it will do. Lyra sticks the Christmas tree into the ground until it stands on its own, a bit lopsided, and looks it up and down, trying to decide how exactly to decorate it. 

Pantalaimon begins rummaging through Lyra’s bag, taking out ornaments and scurrying around the Christmas tree, hanging them all around the tree. Lyra smiles and joins him, and as they work, she feels a bit happier.

“This was a good idea, I think. This shouldn’t be a sad place, it should be a place for happy memories,” Lyra said, putting a star on the top of the tree. Pan nodded.

“And we’re making another happy memory, right now.” 

—

It isn’t a big Christmas tree, and it’s mostly artificial, but it was the best Will could afford, and it will hold up better under the weather. He takes it back to Lyra’s bench and places it in the snow, making sure it stands up, and then he and Kirjava quietly begin to decorate it with the ornaments they could afford.

Will was able to find some quirky ornaments, in shapes of little animals. There is a black cat, which he supposes is close enough to Kirjava, and an ermine, which, while it’s not Pantalaimon’s settled form, was one of his favorites nonetheless. He places those two ornaments near the top of the tree, close enough that they can touch each other. They are the centerpiece of the tree, and Will thinks it looks best that way.

“Oh, come on, Will, I don’t look like that,” Kirjava joked, stifling a soft laugh.

“Hush, dear. It works.” 

—

When the tree is nearly decorated, both Will and Lyra find their last decoration, a golden garland to weave around their Christmas trees. It is not the same garland, of course, and Lyra’s has a few more beads on it, but it reminds them of the same thing:

Dust, and the love that saved it.

Both take extra care when placing it on the tree, and Will makes sure that all of the spaces between each level of garland are equal. Lyra makes sure that it has the proper amount of sparkle. Both step back from their tree, satisfied. 

Across the boundaries of universes, there is a quiet murmur.

“Happy Christmas, my dear.”

 


End file.
